


something tragic, something magic

by moondanse



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Childhood friends to enemies to lovers, M/M, Magical Realism, Witches, light angst but it’s not as angsty as the summary makes it seem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moondanse/pseuds/moondanse
Summary: Perhaps it’s immature of him, but this is how he and Donghyuck have always worked. Disagreements? Just ignore each other until it passes. Ignore each other until you’ve forgotten what you’re angry about. Ignore each other until your friendship fizzles and burns, leaving nothing but bitter ashes behind.Though it may be a bit difficult to ignore Donghyuck in his own home. Doesn’t mean he won’t try.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Na Jaemin
Comments: 26
Kudos: 81





	something tragic, something magic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunbeamjd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbeamjd/gifts).



> hello everyone! before i introduce this fic i’d like to announce that i have changed my username from justicearcana to moondanse! i hope this isn’t too confusing. i was feeling a change so here we are. thanks as always for your continued support~!
> 
> this work is a commission for the lovely izzy! we worked together a lot in the conception of this, so please be sure to give her love and thanks for allowing me to bring this to life. she also helped me name it and i owe her my life for that. this fic literally would not exist without her and i can only hope that it lives up to her expectations,,,
> 
> another huge thanks to amanda, elise, and vicky for helping me with some of the finer details of this and to ash for her unending support and cheerleading. love you all v much <3

_ Blueleaf, nettle, dragonwort, ivy, knotweed, redcaps.  _ Jaemin goes over the list in his head as he trudges through the forest, black gathering sack slung over his shoulders. 

He treads carefully, each step slow and deliberate so as to avoid stepping in anything unsavory. In retrospect, perhaps he should have worn different shoes. Jaemin grimaces as the mud beneath his feet makes a gross squelching noise; he’ll have to clean off his boots as soon as he gets home. 

The sun hangs low in the sky. It’s nearing evening — not the most ideal time to go out gathering ingredients, but the only time he has. There’s a slight breeze in the air, one that makes Jaemin shiver and wish he’d worn a jacket over his thin v-neck. That makes two poor fashion choices so far today. But hey, at least he looks good?

“No pain, no beauty,” Jaemin mutters to himself, wrapping his arms around his body to keep in the warmth. “Blueleaf, nettle, dragonwort...”

A flash of color catches the corner of his eye. 

“Fucking finally!” Dashing over to the bush, Jaemin eagerly begins to dig up the bright red mushrooms growing at its base. He tries not to think about all the dirt getting under his fingernails or the fact that the fungus is alive. Instead he thinks of how happy his mother will be when he returns home with a full bag, eyes warm and smile bright.

After dislodging all the redcaps from the soil, Jaemin straightens up and continues on his way.  _ Blueleaf, nettle, dragonwort... _

The process is dirty and tedious. Jaemin remembers now why he never volunteers to go out for potion ingredients — he much prefers helping out around the shop to digging around in the mud. But today, he’s on a mission. One that will make any amount of washing mud off his boots worth it, if he succeeds.

He’s carefully extracting some ivy from a bush when there’s a flash of lightning overhead. 

“Shit,” Jaemin curses, glancing at the sky. He’s mostly protected by the canopy of trees above him, but if it starts to storm, that’s not going to mean much.

He’s too far into the woods to make it back to town before the clouds break and all hell is unleashed. Jaemin knows he’s fucked as he feels the first raindrop splash onto his bare arms. He needs to find shelter, fast.

He knows of only one place he can go. Jaemin groans and stares at the single house up ahead — a cozy log cabin nestled into a clearing. Before he can overthink anything, he begins walking towards it.

The house is cute, quaint, and surrounded by a colorful maine of wildflowers. Jaemin knows all too well who lives here, and he knows that he is certainly not welcome inside. But what choice does he have? If he stays out here, he’ll catch a cold. Not to mention he can kiss his precious boots goodbye; they may be able to handle a little mud, but they definitely can’t weather a storm.

Jaemin has no other option.

So he swallows his pride, and knocks.

***

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”

Lee Donghyuck glances up at him with a wry grin. Jaemin grimaces in return, trying his best to suppress a shiver. He’ll be damned if he shows weakness in front of Donghyuck — even if he is here to ask for his (very temporary!) help.

“Hello, Hyuckie,” Jaemin says with a forced smile. He steps forward slightly to avoid the now steadily beating rain, but Donghyuck doesn’t budge. Typical.

“Oh, are we using old pet names, now?” he asks, brow raised. Donghyuck crosses his arms and leans against the door frame with an amused scoff. “You look cold, Nana. Forgot a jacket?”

It takes everything within him not to scowl. Jaemin — now drenched — takes another step forward, crowding into Donghyuck’s space. “Just let me inside before I catch a cold, please,” he says through gritted teeth.

Donghyuck laughs and finally moves to the side. Jaemin nearly jumps into the house, desperate for the warmth and cover. On the opposite wall there’s a fireplace, alight with flames. Jaemin moves to it instinctively.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Donghyuck stands in the center of the room, arms still crossed and a curious look on his face. He watches as Jaemin rubs his hands together over the fire in an attempt to warm himself. Outside, a crash of thunder causes the windows to shake.

Jaemin takes a moment to answer, but Donghyuck doesn’t rush him. Instead they simply exist together in the cozy silence of Donghyuck’s living room. Donghyuck moves to take a seat on an armchair.

“Wasn’t expecting it to storm,” Jaemin admits with a huff. “I was out collecting ingredients for the shop and got caught in it. Sorry to bother you.”

There’s a bite to his words, one that he hopes conveys just how much he really doesn’t want to be here. Donghyuck either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He replies with the same easy smile that’s always adorning his face: “No problem. My doors are always open for an old friend.”

Jaemin scoffs. Old friend. Well, that’s certainly one way to describe their relationship.

Another silence falls over them. Jaemin’s never been to Donghyuck’s house before — well, not this one at least — and he wasn’t really planning on visiting any time soon. Still wet but significantly less freezing, he turns to take stock of the place.

It’s small. That’s the first thing he notices. They’re situated in the living room, which is cluttered with things like books and plants and miscellaneous knick knacks lining the wall to wall shelves. There’s little touches of magic everywhere — trinkets whirring, portraits waving. The living room opens up to a small kitchen, and Jaemin can smell something baking in the oven. There’s a dark hallway to the left, which he assumes leads to Donghyuck’s bedroom and bathroom. But that appears to be it. No TV, no dining room table. No roommate. How the hell does he live like this?

“It’s not as boring as it seems,” Donghyuck says suddenly, as if reading his mind. “I keep myself busy.”

Jaemin frowns. “Right,” he says. He glances over to what must be Donghyuck’s potion making station: a large cauldron surrounded by bottles and baskets of ingredients. “By stealing our business.”

Donghyuck laughs then, loud and bright, and Jaemin scowls. He thinks this is funny? Because of him, his family’s own potion shop hardly gets any customers anymore. Everyone in town would rather go to the potions prodigy Lee Donghyuck for their needs — even if it means trudging all the way out into the middle of the forest. The only thing keeping Daydream Apothecary alive is the Na family’s own personal funding and a few loyal regulars.

“Still mad about that, are we?” Donghyuck says between chuckles. Jaemin, fired up, opens his mouth immediately to retort but is cut off. “Not my fault you sell overpriced, watered down potions. Why don’t you just make them cheaper? It’s not like you guys need the money.”

“It's not about the money,” Jaemin argues. “It’s the principle! We were here first.”

“The principle, he says,” Donghyuck snorts. “Sure, Jaemin.”

Jaemin’s nostrils flare with anger and he turns away from Donghyuck, no longer wishing to carry out the conversation. Perhaps it’s immature of him, but this is how he and Donghyuck have always worked. Disagreements? Just ignore each other until it passes. Ignore each other until you’ve forgotten what you’re angry about. Ignore each other until your friendship fizzles and burns, leaving nothing but bitter ashes behind.

Though it may be a bit difficult to ignore Donghyuck in his own home. Doesn’t mean he won’t try.

He scoots closer to the fireplace, rubbing at the goosebumps on his arms in a futile attempt to erase them. There’s a sudden thickness in his throat, making it hard to swallow. Being around Donghyuck always does this to him, lately. Like all the pent up anger and resentment and regret is finally becoming too much to bear. Jaemin doesn’t want to face that feeling. He’d almost rather be stuck out in the storm.

In the kitchen, the oven beeps quietly. Jaemin can vaguely hear Donghyuck rustling through cabinets, glass clinking and appliances whirring. He’s busy staring into the fire like his life depends on it, drowning out anything and everything else, so he doesn’t notice when the background noise cuts out.

A voice startles him from behind.

“Take off your clothes.”

He spins around, horrified. “Excuse me?!”

Donghyuck lets out a long suffering sigh and rolls his eyes. “The rain, dumbass,” he says. “You’ll get sick if you keep your wet clothes on. I’ll get you something to change into, and a towel for your hair. It’s no use sitting by the fire if you don’t change.”

For a moment Jaemin simply blinks at him. Lee Donghyuck, being nice? To him? Has the world ended and he didn’t notice?

Donghyuck stares at him, eyebrow lifted like a challenge. Jaemin suddenly remembers to respond.

“...oh. Right. Thank you.”

“No problem, Jaemin. Bathroom’s this way; I’ll grab you a sweater or something.”

Donghyuck disappears into the dark hallway and Jaemin hesitates before following. Part of his brain wonders if this is all some elaborate trick, if Donghyuck is luring him somewhere to like, kill him or something — but he stops that train of thought before it gets too far. He and Donghyuck may be enemies, but Donghyuck isn't  _ evil. _

That he knows of, anyway.

***

Donghyuck shows him to the bathroom and tosses some sweatpants and a fuzzy pink sweater into his arms. Jaemin isn't sure if Donghyuck remembers pink is his favorite color or if it's just a coincidence, but the thought makes his chest seize up unexpectedly.

The bathroom is bland compared to the living room — white walls, white sink, white bathtub — but it's got a distinct sort of Donghyuck charm to it, one that Jaemin can't explain. Maybe it's the way he's got his toiletries lined up neatly against the mirror, or the three small candles burning in the corner that give the whole room the scent of summer. Maybe it's the tiny succulent sitting up on the windowsill that looks like it's got some kind of watering charm on it (typical Hyuck — too lazy to water it himself). Whatever it is, it's suddenly overwhelming. Jaemin splashes his face with some cold water from the sink to ground himself.

He emerges back in the living room a few minutes later, freshly dried and clad in Donghyuck's slightly-too-small clothes.

"What are you gathering blueleaf for?"

Jaemin freezes. It takes him a moment to notice his bag of ingredients open on the ground, leaves and fungi tumbling onto the carpet. Donghyuck sits next to it, completely casual. In an instant any residual feelings of warmth go cold.

"Are you going through my stuff?" he bites, sending Donghyuck a nasty glare. "What the fuck?" He rushes over, haphazardly grabbing his things and stuffing them back into the bag.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. "Don't look at me like that," he says. "Smooch knocked it over. I didn't touch anything."

At the mention of Donghyuck's familiar, Jaemin softens. He had nearly forgotten about the little toad who had been such a huge part of his childhood. He glances over to where Donghyuck is gesturing and sees the creature sitting happily on one of the throw pillows. She's just as cute as ever, slimy skin glistening in the firelight.

"Oh," Jaemin says, relaxing. "Sorry. I thought you were being a dirty snoop."

Donghyuck snorts. "Dirty snoop," he says. "Such a way with words. Why do you always assume the worst of me, Jaemin? I literally haven't done anything to you."

It's a loaded question. One that Jaemin doesn't feel comfortable delving into right now, so he does what Jaemins do best: he ignores it.

"To answer your earlier question," he diverts, "I'm making something with it. Obviously." He reaches a hand out to Smooch and her tongue darts out to lick it. It's a familiar, tingling sensation — characteristic of the action that had given the toad her name in the first place. He smiles.

"Smooch, you cheater," Donghyuck complains. The pout on his face would be cute, if Jaemin was capable of thinking such thoughts of his mortal enemy. "And obviously you're making something with it. I meant what."

Jaemin shrinks under Donghyuck's gaze, suddenly self-conscious. His mother hasn’t asked him to gather this particular ingredient.This is for Jaemin’s own personal use. For his  _ plan.  _

"Shouldn't you know what blueleaf is used for, potions genius?"

He doesn’t even pretend to think about it. "Transformation charms," Donghyuck answers easily. "But what do you need to transform? Blueleaf is usually for shifting living things into other things, most commonly cats—" He freezes, eyes blowing wide with realization. "Jaemin... where's Guksu?"

Jaemin shifts uncomfortably. He shrugs, focusing all his attention on Smooch. 

“Jaemin.”

“He’s at home,” Jaemin snaps. “Why do you care?”

Donghyuck levels an intense stare in his direction. “You left your familiar at home?” he asks. He ignores the second half of Jaemin’s response, instead shooting him his own question. “Why?”

Jaemin shrugs again, defensive. “I don’t need to bring him everywhere, do I? Besides, what use is a snake going to be to me? All he does is scare people away.”

“People.”

“Yes, people. Turns out most of them think snakes are scary.”

“Since when did you care about what other people think?” Jaemin doesn’t respond, but he can feel his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Donghyuck seems to notice the blush and scoffs in recognition. “...is this about Jeno? Jaemin.”

The name of his crush sends his heart racing and cheeks flushing. Of course Donghyuck would have picked up on his fascination with the neighborhood clairvoyant; he’d always been particularly observant. Plus, Jeno is charming — practially everyone in town has been in love with him at some point or another. 

“So what if it is?” Jaemin spits, trying his best to calm the erratic beating of his heart. “It’s none of your business.”

Donghyuck sighs. “Jaemin, this is ridiculous. You love Guksu,” he says. “The Nana I know would never change anything about him, especially not for some boy. The Nana I know doesn’t adjust to what others deem acceptable.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the Nana you knew anymore.”

The silence that hangs between them is thick and heavy like someone’s just cast a sound suppression spell. It’s a sore subject, one they’ve always skirted around. Jaemin knows he’s changed — Donghyuck certainly has, too — and he won’t allow Donghyuck to convince him it was for the worse.

“We aren’t friends anymore, Donghyuck.”

Lightning flashes outside the window, casting shadows across Donghyuck’s face. Jaemin can see the hurt there, knows that look all too well, and chooses to ignore it. 

“Well, let me know if you need anything,” Donghyuck all but whispers before turning his back to Jaemin. Jaemin gives Smooch a pat on the head and settles in front of the fire, his insides growling angrily along with the thunder overhead.

***

The power goes out.

Donghyuck is pulling yet another baked good out of the oven when suddenly everything goes dark. “Shit,” he curses, and Jaemin hears some clattering as Donghyuck presumably puts down whatever he was baking. 

“Great,” Jaemin huffs. He looks over at Smooch, his cuddle buddy for the last hour, with an exasperated grimace. “Don’t you have a generator?” he calls out.

Jaemin can hardly make out the shape of Donghyuck coming closer. The closeness of his voice startles him and he jumps, arms curled around himself in protection.

“We’re witches, Jaemin,” Donghyuck says. “Come on, help me light these candles.”

Immediately, Donghyuck begins using his magic to set fire to the candles littered around the room. Jaemin shifts uncomfortably. 

“What?” Donghyuck pauses to turn towards him. “You know how to do a simple fire starting spell, don’t you?”

Jaemin scoffs, offended. “Of course I know  _ how  _ to,” he says. “I just… haven’t really used my magic in a while.” As much as he dislikes Donghyuck, he isn’t exactly looking to burn down his home. 

“What?” Donghyuck repeats, this time with more force. “You don’t use your magic; you don’t bring your familiar anywhere… are you even a witch?”

“Just because I don’t cast spells for every tiny little task doesn’t mean I’m not a witch,” Jaemin snaps back, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. Donghyuck has paused in his candle lighting to give him a look full of judgement and disbelief. “Look, I just don’t feel comfortable, okay? Why does it matter to you? We aren’t—”

“We aren’t friends, yeah, I get it.” Donghyuck frowns. “But we were. Best friends. What happened, Nana? Is it really because of the potions? Because I never meant to harm your family’s business. I’m just trying to live my life doing what I love, same as you.”

Jaemin feels something in his heart begin to ache. He remembers evening sunsets, the brisk chill in the air as he and Donghyuck snuck out into the woods to mix whatever mud and plants they could find. He remembers making a “love potion” — some nameless purple weeds and fresh water from the nearby creek — and giving it to Donghyuck to taste. Donghyuck laughing in his face, telling him that real love potions have a much more complicated recipe. Donghyuck kissing his cheek anyway. 

He swallows.

“No, no,” Jaemin sighs, feeling tired. He slumps down into the armchair, eyes trained on the still burning fireplace. “That’s not it. Just—we’re different people now, Hyuck-ah. And aren’t you tired of it? All the fighting? We grew apart, that’s all.”

Donghyuck gives him a careful look. The candles have been forgotten now, and his face is dimly lit, shadows dancing across the slope of his nose like a moving art piece. “We don’t have to fight,” he says slowly, quietly. “We may be different people but we aren’t kids anymore. I’m pretty sure we can handle conflict like mature adults.” Jaemin is a little less sure, but he says nothing. “I’m not saying we have to be BFFs, but we don’t have to treat each other like enemies, Jaem. Not if you don’t want to.”

Jaemin stays quiet. Treating Donghyuck like his enemy has served as a nice outlet for all of his frustration these past few years, but maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s all been a bit misplaced. 

“...just think about it, okay?” Donghyuck continues. His voice is soft, gentle. Jaemin isn’t sure whether to feel comforted or patronized. 

Maybe a bit of both. His relationship with Donghyuck has never been one dimensional, after all.

***

They spend the next hour huddled for warmth in front of the fire, eating some of the blueberry scones Donghyuck made and making small talk. They talk about the shop, how Jaemin’s parents are doing, what Donghyuck’s sisters have been up to. Jaemin decides to put his grudge to the side for the evening, partially to test if it’s even possible and partially because he’s just  _ tired.  _ He’s tired of fighting, tired of feeling tense and bitter around someone he used to love.

It’s surprisingly easy to pretend like they’d never fought, like they haven’t spent the past five years ignoring each other. Jaemin finds himself laughing at Donghyuck’s jokes and listening to his stories with rapt attention. Donghyuck has always had a sort of arresting charm about him; no matter how hard you try you just can’t hate him. Jaemin would know — he’s spent plenty of time pretending he does to recognize its futility.

“Just sleep here,” Donghyuck says with a sigh. He glances up at the clock on the wall; it’s nearing ten o’clock and the storm still hasn’t let up. The sun has fully set and Smooch sleeps comfortably on the rug near the front door. “You can take the bed, since your spoiled ass would probably break if it tried to sleep on the floor.”

Jaemin scoffs, though Donghyuck isn’t entirely wrong. He’s grateful for the consideration nonetheless. 

“Thanks,” he grumbles. He stands up, dusting off his sweatpants and gulping. “...for everything.”

Donghyuck smiles. Jaemin allows himself to be disarmed for a moment and is struck by the sudden warmth that floods his chest. Hm… maybe he could get used to this.

“No problem, Nana,” Donghyuck says. He gestures down the hall. “Bedroom is the last door on the right. Make yourself at home, but don’t touch my shit.”

Jaemin nods. He wasn't planning on snooping, but he feels like he’s been chastised, anyway. He gulps. “Got it.”

***

He wakes up to the sun streaming in through Donghyuck’s bedroom window. Jaemin’s first instinct is to be annoyed; of course after thunderstorming all night the weather would decide to behave as if nothing ever happened. Maybe it’s mocking him. Or maybe it’s a sign that he and Donghyuck were meant to reconcile — either way, Jaemin feels played.

He pulls himself out of bed and stretches. He can hear Donghyuck moving around the living room. Curious, Jaemin redresses in the pink sweater and joins him.

“Morning,” he greets, tentative. It takes Donghyuck a moment to register his presence; he’s preoccupied with… something or other… over at his potions station. Jaemin takes note of the bubbling cauldron and the various ingredients scattered on the floor. Smooch nibbles on a leaf near Donghyuck’s feet.

“Oh, Jaemin!” Donghyuck looks up from his brewing with a sparkle in his eyes. Jaemin blinks back at him. “Did you sleep alright? Oh, there’s muffins in the kitchen. Help yourself. Promise they’re not poisoned,” he chuckles.

Jaemin stares. “Oh, um, thanks,” he says. He’s a bit caught off guard by Donghyuck’s friendliness this early in the morning. He clears his throat. “I slept fine, thanks. Have you been up long…?” From what Jaemin remembers, Donghyuck was never a morning person. But judging by the state of his home right now, maybe that’s simply one of the things that’s changed about him.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck shrugs. He sniffs at whatever is brewing in his cauldron and makes a face before giving it a vigorous stir. “Couldn’t sleep well. Don’t worry about it though. I kept myself busy.”

“I can see that.” 

An awkward silence passes, and Jaemin takes the opportunity to grab a muffin from the kitchen. He bites into it — mmm, poppyseed — and wonders if there’s anything Donghyuck  _ can’t  _ do.

“Keep the sweater,” Donghyuck says suddenly. For the third time in the past twenty four hours, Jaemin is startled by his sudden appearance behind him. How does he keep doing that?! His footsteps are so light, like he’s dancing on air. “Pink isn’t my color anyway,” he continues. “I want the pants back at some point though. No rush. And here… this is for you.”

Jaemin takes the small vial of liquid from Donghyuck’s hands with a frown. “Um, what—”

“To give to Jeno,” he explains. “He has those visions, right? Well some of them are really painful for him. I’ve made this for him before; it helps with some of the really bad ones. You can say you made it if you want… I don’t mind. I’m sure he’ll be really grateful.”

For a moment, Jaemin is stunned speechless. Donghyuck is kind… too kind. He shakes his head. “Oh, Hyuck, that’s so nice of you but you should give it to him instead…”

“Why? Seriously Jaemin, I made it for you to give to him. You like him, don’t you?”

His cheeks flush red in embarrassment. “I mean yeah, but, it’s not that serious — it’s just a crush,” he says. For some inexplicable reason, he feels weird discussing this with Donghyuck. Like mentioning his feelings for someone else might break the delicate jenga tower of their newly rekindled relationship. “I—I’m over it.”

Donghyuck stares at him. “You’re over it,” he repeats, disbelieving. “Last night you said you were going to transform Guksu into a cat for him.”

“Yeah, well, last night I thought we’d never be friends again.”

Jaemin doesn’t know what he’s saying. Donghyuck doesn’t seem to know, either, and gives him a calculating and careful stare. Then he laughs. The sound makes Jaemin’s insides flutter with something unexpectedly warm.

“Well, alright,” Donghyuck says, shrugging. “You should still give it to him though. He needs it, and he won’t ask me for more because he feels bad for not paying me.”

“Okay,” Jaemin responds. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Donghyuck hesitates before reaching out to pat Jaemin’s shoulder affectionately. “See you around? Smooch misses you.”

Jaemin swallows. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, see you around.”

***

He returns home with a satisfied smile on his face. “Here you go, Ma,” he calls out, depositing all of his gathered materials onto the counter. “Nettle, dragonwort, ivy, knotweed, and redcaps.”

Jaemin’s mother gives him a bright smile and ruffles his hair. “Thank you, dear,” she says. “Now go shower — you smell like you spent the night in the woods.”

He laughs at the irony of the statement.  _ If only she knew. _ Jaemin waltzes into the bathroom with a newfound spring in his step, and throws the blueleaf in the trash.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! it’s a shame this ended up so short because i really love the characters and world i’ve built here. i have so much more stored in my brain re: nahyuck’s history... so maybe i’ll write more in this universe sometime. we shall see. 
> 
> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! 
> 
> [twt](http://twitter.com/dreamrunmp3) | [cc](http://curiouscat.qa/dreamrunmp3)


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